Rick Ross
Respect the Code
[Intro]
My Guy Mars

[Verse 1: T.I.]
Hey, they say ignorance is bliss, huh? I guess n***as is so blissful
Do anything for dollars, the thought of havin' a fistful
Make ‘em switch sides when it lookin' grim and dismal
A coward dies a thousand deaths, no pistol
See fuck n***as do fuck shit ‘cause they got fucked up intentions to
N***a got no principles, better watch who you listen to
I see it in your eyes, you weak, the lies you speak
And shit you do right now, where I'm from, you die in the streets
‘Cause, boy, that ho shit
I'm in the game, I ain't worried what the coach said
And, boy, you lame, better watch how you approach that
All in your feelings, showin' all of your emotions
I'ma be at your neck, about that ho shit
All the drama, I love it, gеt an erection for it
Like go to Vеgas, fight police, not get arrested for it
The smoke, I'm runnin' to it, trouble wouldn't dare avoid
And, hell, they blow it in your direction, you better be ready for it
Righteous, humble, arrogant, oxymoron, anomaly
Egotistical activist, master solution strategist
Full-time family man, part-time politic
Trap n***a, fashion icon, I'm all of it
Don't crucify the messenger
'Cause the message real, you need to hear it
Absorb it, let it sizzle in your spirit
To all these n***as goin' out sad, actin' all weird
You embarrassin' yourself, lookie here, n***a
[Chorus: Kes Kross]
Oh no, n***as don't respect the code (Respect the code)
Oh no, act like bitches, n***as act like hoes (They disrespect the code)
Catch insomnia, boy, don't you sleep (Keep your eyes open)
Keep your eyes open (Your eyes) your eyes open

[Interlude: Rick Ross & Kes Kross]
I wish I really knew how to sing for you, baby (You're just a spectacle)
But since I can't, I'ma count this paper in front of you and
Shower you with these gifts and (M-M-M-M, they don't respect the code)
I'ma tell you the best shit that come to my mind and (Maybach Music)
I want you to feel like I love you, baby

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Abu Dhabi, the penthouse slugs not for the amateurs
Calamari from California came with cannabis
Fill arenas that put the team up on the banisters
Pinkie rings and the other things that seen the gamblers
Count your acres, build your estates, we call it farm life
Talkin' heavy, your chains sound hollow when your charm light
Pistol poppin', you whip look polished and your broad's nice
Kemosabe, hundred kilos just on a calm night
Glad to see me, bowl of zucchini, call it mob life
Drop the top and call the models, yes, all the tall type
Belaire bottles back in Beverly Hills, we balled out
Biggest boss, I'm poppin' dollars, fuck what you talkin' ‘bout
Hundred racks and no Cadillacs, now pull your cars out
See you fell in and feed the felons, so they think you jealous
Say you love him and write him letters, but you never mail him
Fax, I'm at the top because I'm chargin' tax, ask
[Chorus: Kes Kross & Rick Ross]
Oh no, n***as don't respect the code (Respect the code)
Renzel, a.k.a Willy
Oh no, act like bitches, n***as act like hoes (They disrespect the code)
The big fish, tell ‘em, uh
Catch insomnia, boy, don't you sleep (Keep your eyes open)
Keep your open (Your eyes) your eyes open

[Outro: Kes Kross]
You're just a spectacle, you don't respect the code